


Pictures and Memories

by StrangledAvatar



Series: Pictures and Trinkets, Colours and Stories [2]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangledAvatar/pseuds/StrangledAvatar
Summary: Week 2 of HappyJarryHolidays: Orange (Healing)When choices are made, people still have to live (or die) with the consequences.James and Harry's decision and how the family copes.





	1. Pictures and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> So I'll be honest, this was tough. With everything going on (the spoilers and previews and promos, oh my), my muse got sidetracked. A lot. I'm reeling with where the show is taking the characters, pairing, and their narrative. I need all the feedback and help that is provided. Any ideas are welcome. I figuratively am writing blind here--that's how much I'm shook.

Watching the light play off Harry’s face was bittersweet. Memories of lazy mornings spent curled around each other in the dewy light. James loved to trace the freckles of his face, like a child mapping the constellations. Painting pictures in his mind’s eye and affixing memories in his heart.

There had been a time when waking up with Harry meant the end of a fantasy. When the cruel morning light would bring with it the demand for money or reminder of a reality wherein, he was just a placeholder. Or worse, not even that: just a means to an end. It hurt every time, but he’d never been able to deny himself that brief moment of selfish dreamings. He’d never been able to deny himself any dreams (with Harry) even if it burned—like the tears he’d never let fall. Every time, he would gorge himself on Harry, unable to refrain from the temptation. Those times, James would pray to sleep longer so he could hold onto the fantasy.

But that was the past. Now, he woke up early to spend his time looking at this man, who’d captured his heart so unintentionally. No longer having that hopeless reality meant James could relax and enjoy the quiet moments of just being there with Harry. To be honest, he still could hardly believe that Harry was his (he’d probably still be in years to come). Every day that James woke up to him was treasured.

James hoped Harry felt the same. He hoped Harry could feel something.

Looking at Harry now felt like a perversion.

A boy lying so still and so small in a hospital bed. Two words that James hated to associate with Harry. As short as he is (though everyone is short to him), Harry’s presence was larger than life. Quiet but present, Harry was the true force of nature. He’d certainly wreaked havoc in James’ life. He’d have it no other way. The only time when Harry had been still and small broke James’ heart. Listening to him categorically state without Ste he was nothing or watching him be loaded into the prison transport bus with a quiet “I’m sorry”, those moments still haunt him. He’d vowed to protect him. He’d failed.

James didn’t remember the ride in the ambulance or even much of his examination. Just lights, bright lights, and sounds. People talking and yelling. Beeping and shrill tones. He can only remember the feelings of fear and emptiness—something was missing. That ache drove him to push back at the hands, searching for something…someone. The doctors told him he kept reaching out his hands. They would push them back down. But every time, he would struggle and bring his hands back up. They finally had to strap him down to finish the exam.

He’d been like that since they’d taken Harry out of his arms.

He couldn’t hold Harry in his arms now. He could only hold his hand. But he’d not let it go. Not this time. Seeing Harry’s hand in his, reminded him of a sarcastic remark and a firm grip. Most days, he could barely think of that moment without shame. But then, he’d had no shame, not when it came to something he wanted. And he had. Wanted. He’d wanted Harry. His body at first (who wouldn’t?). Then when Harry blackmailed him, he’d seen a side more intriguing than simple intelligence or beauty. Before he knew it, he wanted Harry’s heart—if only because Harry already had his. But wanting is not the same as having…until it was. Was it no wonder that James would not let Harry go?

Remembering a situation not unlike this one, James cradled Harry’s hand and whispered, “I’m going to tell you something that I don’t tell people.” James focused his eyes on their joined hands. “I’m scared. I’m scared of being alone. Because people leave. John Paul did. Kyle did. Nathan did. Ellie and Alfie, they both leaving their life as far away as possible. People always leave. You did.”

Memories of storms, both inside and outside, made James pause. “I couldn’t believe that you had chosen me. That’s why I threw you out. I thought I was your consolation prize. I had chased you for so long. I honestly never though you’d let me catch you. So when you did, I could not believe it. I told you to go. And you did.”

Looking at the hand in his, James wanted his tears to wake Harry up like the fairytales always boasted. Instead they dropped onto their hands as if to seal them together. “You left. And then you came back. You came back for me. That’s the first time anyone ever has. And you kept doing it. After I had ended it with you and was sitting alone. You could have kept walking. But you came over. And later at the Hutch, when I turned to leave, you came to me again. You leave. But you always come back.”

James looked up at Harry’s face. Carefully, he set his hand back on the bed and stood up. _I want to touch your face again. I want to hold you in my arms again._ Somehow, even now, Harry was still beautiful. James traced the freckles again (painting his memory). He leaned down, above the machine keeping Harry breathing—keeping him alive. Pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s forehead, James breathed out “Please come back.”


	2. Mother's Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother always knows...
> 
> Marnie comes to visit Harry and James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the one highlight in this mess is Marnie and Harry. I am loving their dynamic. So I introduced Marnie into the story at this stage. This chapter is quite a bit longer, but I hope you'll enjoy.
> 
> As always, please leave me feedback on the story or anything--are there other characters you'd like to see included in the narrative?

“How is he?”

James startled awake. Shaking his head slightly, he tightened his fist at the sharp pain the motion caused. He must have made a noise as a cool hand touched his face. “Careful my darling. You mustn’t exert yourself too much. The doctors did say you have a severe concussion.”

“I’m fine, Mother.” Though James did allow himself to lean into the soft touch for a moment. He quickly loosened his grip and glanced at Harry to make sure he was alright. Leaning forward, he listened for the steady push of air from the ventilator. He traced the lines on the monitor with his eyes. Seeing nothing untoward, he slowly relaxed back into the chair.

Looking at James, Marnie could hardly believe this was her eldest son. She didn’t know that someone could slouch so rigidly, his body carrying a tension that was palpable. The sickly paleness of his skin was only contrasted by the dark bags under his eyes. And his eyes, usually so clear and focused, were bloodshot and muddied. They kept flitting from Harry’s face, to the machines, and then to his hands. James cradled Harry’s hand so gently—but then she’d always noticed the peculiar gentleness that James reserved for Harry. His hands had not fully stopped shaking the entire time. Even now, his fingers trembled as they slowly caressed up and down, a pattern only James knew. Marnie had never wanted more to hug her son. Instead, Marnie quietly took a seat opposite James.

She repeated her question, “How is he?”

James looked across at her. “No change.” He closed his eyes. “He’s still unconscious.”

“Well, that’s to be expected. What the doctors sai—”

“I know what they said!” James burst out before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just, He needs to wake up.”

Marnie leaned across the bed to touch her son again, “And he will. I know he will. He just needs time.” She could feel the tremors, the agitation just under the surface. He patted her his arm before slowly sitting back down. “Harry’s always done things at his own pace, you know that. He’ll wake up when he’s good and ready.”

James’s eyes snapped to meet hers. “What’s that supposed to mean? What you think, Harry’s play-acting? Or doing this for attention?”

Her eyes widened, “What? No! Of course not.”

“Because he’s been shot, Mother.”

“I know.”

“For you to even imply that somehow he—”

“James! That is not what I meant. Now sit down!”

After a terse moment, James slumped back into his chair. Marnie smiled when she saw that not once had James let go of Harry’s hand. Again, James checked Harry’s machines. Slowly the tension in the room dissipated. After gazing at Harry’s face for a minute, James grimaced and turned to Marnie. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I apologize.”

Having the urge to embrace her son again, Marnie picked up Harry’s other hand. She tried to will James to look at her, “He will wake up. He will.” She did not wait for a response, taking a deep breath, “The police are outside. They need to speak with you. They’ve been waiting quite a long time.”

“They can continue to do so.”

Marnie sighed, “James. They need to take your statement about what happened. They’ve already lost so much time.”

“I don’t care.”

That surprised her. “You don’t care?” Not once had James ever not cared about making someone pay for any wrongdoings no matter how slight. It was a trait that she both admired and feared. She’d instilled this sense of retributive justice in her son because of the lack of it in hers. Looking back, she clearly saw the many times that she pushed him to act out of anger or spite. She thought it made him strong. And it did…but his singlemindedness also made alone. Even when she was ready to forgive Mac after Nathan (how she wished she’d have killed him then), James couldn’t let go. It isolated him, even from her for a little while. It was an unfailing characteristic of her son. Hearing otherwise was shocking. “You don’t care that they’ve lost time?”

“No.”

Marnie was incredulous. “You do care about catching this man? Don’t you? James you must talk to them. They have no information. He could get away.” Marnie narrowed her eyes at the shrug in response. “James!”

“Harry is my priority.” Not once did his eyes move away from Harry.

“Harry is in good hands. He stable. There are all these machines. He has doctors and nurses checking on him every hour.”

James still refused to look at her. “I’m not leaving.” He shook his head slightly and took another deep breath.

“James you have to!” She honestly could not believe this was her son speaking. _What happened in that houses?_ Looking closer at James, Marnie noticed that the trembling had increased. His grip on Harry had tightened and his breathing was faster. She could not catch his eyes because they were moving between Harry, the machines, and their hands constantly now. “You have to talk to the police. He cannot get away with shooting Harry. Attacking you. You must speak with the police.”

“I. AM. NOT. LEAVING. HARRY.” James finally looked at her. His eyes were teary but wild. He bit his tongue and tried to slow his breathing. Glancing around the room, he visibly tried to calm himself. James’s eyes focused on Harry’s face, “I told him I was here. I told him I had him. They took him from me once already.” Shaking his head, his voice a watery whisper, “I’m not leaving.”

Carefully setting Harry’s hand back on the bed, Marnie stood up. She made her way around where her son fighting for control, she knelt beside his chair. “Darling, you have to speak with the police. I know that you don’t want to leave Harry, but you must. Harry would want you to. Not for his sake, but for yours. He would want the man who hurt YOU to be caught. You know he would.” Cradling James head in her hands, she slowly turned his head towards her. “You have to do this.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, James’ tears felt warm on Marnie’s hands. She stood up to gently kiss his forehead. Feeling his head shake, she affirmed “You have to.”

A quiet voice, so reminiscent of that horrible day in Nightingales when she’d found out what a beast Mac truly was, brokenly confessed, “I can’t.” James pulled away from Marnie. “What is something happens to him, while I’m gone? He might need me. And I..what if I not here?”

She reached for him again, but he turned his head away. She felt tears in her own eyes, “He won’t. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Marnie had to strain to hear James’ reply, “You don’t know that.” There was a choked sob, “Something always happens. I always lose him……I can’t let him go. Not this time.”

He refused to look at her. Marnie realized that her beautiful darling boy was ashamed. _What had happened in that house?_

A call from the hospital is a mother’s worst fear. When she’d heard her son’s name, Marnie felt pain—absolute pain. A pain indescribable to any person (mother) who’s not lost a child.

After finding Nathan on the ground, Marnie had felt the stirrings of it. When Nathan moved and spoke, for one moment—one second—everything would be alright and she could breathe. When the life left his eyes, she could only moan. The pain so intense that only the guttural wail allowed her air. She’d felt something inside her tear and with it came an agony unlike anything she’d ever felt. She thought she’d drown in the pain (somedays she thinks she still might). Revenge on Mac helped distract her for a little while, then living in her fantasy of him also worked, but only just. She’d survived moment by moment—breath by breath. Slowly the pain became more manageable, never gone but survivable. Until one day, it was a part of her everyday life, a presence in the background. She’d adapted to it...and then she got the call from the hospital.

For a brief moment, she was back outside the Dog. She was back kneeling on the ground, willing her son to live. In that moment, she was pain.

Picking up Romeo and going to the hospital was a journey of fear and silence. Neither she nor Romeo said anything, both too scared to say anything out loud. By the time they’d arrived, Harry was in rescus and James was being examined. Words like ‘gunshot,’ ‘head trauma,’ and ‘internal bleeding’ flew around them from police and hospital staff—Romeo kept trying to get more information for her. She asked him not to. She was afraid she’d start screaming. _Not again, please…oh God, not again._

Finally, finally the doctor came to them with news. James had a severe concussion but would make a recovery. Harry would need surgery. She was too glad to ask why they were telling her about him (she would later find out that Harry had included her in his emergency contact information—something that still makes her smile). Though the words were serious and Harry condition critical, Marnie could breathe again.

Now she wished she’d asked for more information from anyone.

Marnie slowly reached out to James again. She cradled his head against her—images of his 16th birthday and other sickening times made her clutch him tighter to her chest. For several minutes, she tried to protect him from the world, or at least give him her strength.

Slowly letting go, she reached down and placed her hand on top of James. “I will stay with him.” She used her other hand to wipe the tears from his face. “I will hold his hand and I won’t let it go. I will stay right here the entire time. Harry won’t be alone…I promise.”

James grimaced as he eyes slowly moved from Harry’s face to the machines to their joined hands to Marnie’s face. He bit his lip and his face crumpled. His voice was childlike, “You promise?”

Marnie smiled tearfully, “I promise.”

James nodded. He slowly stood up. It seemed to pain him to let go of Harry hand. Stepping back from the bed, Marnie could see the James Nightingale armor appear. James straightened his clothes, wiped his face, and without a backwards glance, walked out the door (if he looked back, he’d never leave). Marnie carefully brushed the air off Harry’s forehead with her free hand. She gazed at him with a smile, still holding his hand.

“Harry. I remember when James first met you. He wanted you like so many other pretty toys before.” She laughed, “I believe I even called you his winky” Looking into the distance, Marnie relived the early months in the village. So many plans, so many wasted opportunities with her family. She’d spent all that time trying to get Mac back. If she could, she would spend those moments with Nathan. She’d spend it with James, sharing memories instead of scheming plans. So many things she’d do differently.

Focusing back on Harry, Marnie smiled, “I don’t know when you changed James. I just know you did. Not even John Paul did that. It was so effortless; probably because you didn’t even know you’d done it. James certainly was unaware. One day, you are a game and the next—you are his heart. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Marnie leaned down to kiss his forehead. Sitting down, she looked at his face. “You are very pretty. But I wasn’t sure there was anything else to you. James was. Even when you hurt him, and you did more than once, there was still something about you. James couldn’t stay way. I didn’t understand it.”

Marnie hadn’t been able to understand why James was so obsessed with Harry. Every little thing that Harry wanted, James provided—sometimes even before Harry asked. It was baffling. To Marnie, James was acting like a love-struck stranger. This was not the son she’d raised. Her calculating son took unnecessary risks for a boy who loved someone else. He strong willed son constantly caved for a nobody in the middle of a nondescript village. Sure he was pretty, but James had had pretty. Pretty with more class and money; with less trouble. Pretty without a criminal record. When she’d finally asked James about it, he’d said he was making up for a mistake he’d made with him—a path he’d sent him down. She hadn’t believed him then. She knew the real reason. He loved Harry.

“You see him. You see him in a way that no one else does. I remember during Mac’s trial; James was driving himself insane and you calmed him down. I wasn’t supposed to see that so I didn’t…and I still haven’t. But I’ll remember it. You calmed him down by reminding him of who he is…to you. You were validating him, letting him see himself through your eyes. All of that through a simple touch and ‘You’re James Nighingale.’ You see my son and you love him completely. I didn’t think he would ever have that.”

Images of John Paul’s casual but smug moral superiority, reminded her of the time James tried to be happy with someone who would only accept the parts of him he liked—and judged him for the rest. She’d been unable to fully support that relationship. She’d thought it was because she might lose her son. But viewing it through the eyes of his relationship with Harry, made her more aware of just how ill-suited they were for each other. John Paul dealt in black and white for everyone else; grey was reserved for himself alone. When James did untoward things to help further John Paul’s goals, he was rewarded. If James’s actions did not coincide with John Paul’s needs, he was castigated. The relationship dynamics more akin to a training than a family.

Now James has a proper family. A son who reminded her of James more and more. And a partner who did not shy away from the darker parts of her son or find him lacking for them. Marnie’s eyes welled up. “Because I know you’d worry, I’m not crying because I am sad. I am so thankful to you. My son is happy. There are times that I see him looking at you and it’s pure joy. You’ve done that. I told you that James adores you. So do I. I adore you for what you have brought into my son’s life. For what you’ve brought into mine.”

She squeezed his hand, “Now you need to stay in our lives. You love my son. You came back for him once before. I need you to do it again. He needs you. We all do. You are part of my family. You help make it a family. So I need you to come back.”

Marnie looked around the room, observing the machines and the equipment. “I’ll bring some pictures in here for you, so you are surrounded by family. The one of you and James in Vienna, I know you like that one. You are surrounded by people who love you. We’re here. I’m here.”

She smiled at him, gentling squeezing his hand, “James will be right back. But until then, I’ve got you. And I’m not letting go.”


End file.
